


Gauda Secunda

by dracsmith



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-24
Updated: 2013-10-24
Packaged: 2017-12-30 07:50:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1016019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracsmith/pseuds/dracsmith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A variation on the aired episode "Gauda Prime."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gauda Secunda

**Author's Note:**

> When I began reading B7 fanfic, it seemed that just about everyone had written some variant on the Gauda Prime scenario, usually beginning with the line, "Kerr Avon stood over Roj Blake's body, smoking gun in hand." Here's mine. It's a little twisted.
> 
> Originally printed in the print fanzine Gambit 5 (1989).

Kerr Avon stood over Roj Blake's body, smoking gun in hand. Troopers in Federation uniforms surrounded him. He raised the gun to make one last desperate stand.

"Don't shoot!" cried a voice from the floor. Blake scrambled quickly out from under Avon's legs. "Please, don't shoot. These are my people."

Avon stared at him. He was beyond astonishment; his face was a total blank. Blake continued calmly, peeling off an outer layer of bloody clothing. "I only had about ten minutes' notice from Orac that you'd picked up a projectile weapon. It was too late to refit the trooper costumes - they're just blaster-proof, you see - but I managed to grab some bullet-proof padding and whatnot for myself." He was pulling pouches of fake blood off the padding as he spoke.

"Orac?" Avon repeated dully.

"Yes, I've had a long-distance comlink with him ever since I left the Liberator." Blake pulled off the last of the padding, revealing clean clothes underneath. "All those times you've asked him for help and he complained he had more important things to do? That's because he was working for me. He even helped me devise this test."

"Test?" Avon looked around at the sprawled bodies of his companions, interspersed with fallen troopers.

"Oh, nobody's dead," said Blake cheerfully. "Our people's armor absorbed most of the blast from your people's weapons, and of course our weapons were only set on stun."

Avon digested this for a moment. "Arlen?"

"Oh, yes, she's one of us too." Blake chuckled. "Good actress, isn't she?" He took the projectile weapon from Avon's unresisting hands, regarding it with interest. "This was the only factor we didn't foresee, and fortunately we had Orac to warn us."

Avon's blank expression was gradually changing to one of anger. "So, Blake. You were testing me? I can understand testing Tarrant, but . . . ."

Blake answered carefully. "I always trusted you, Avon. But of late, there were rumors, and Orac concurred that you, well, you just weren't yourself. I had to be sure that you were still the man I knew."

Avon stared down at the body nearest to him, Vila's. He could just make out the man's breathing, now that he knew what to look for. He looked around. No one was dead. Even Klyn appeared to be only wounded. And Blake - Blake was alive. He felt as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. "Everything's all right, then," he said.

"Not quite," said Blake, his voice suddenly cold. "You see, Avon, it was a test. And you failed." He raised the projectile weapon and fired. And fired again. And again. . . .

Roj Blake stood over Kerr Avon's body, smoking gun in hand.


End file.
